


The Thimbles Between Us

by tourdefierce



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Dom/sub Play, M/M, Needles, Sensation Play, Suturing, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourdefierce/pseuds/tourdefierce
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"Chains do not hold people together. It is the threads, hundreds of tiny threads, which sew people together through the years."</i>—S. Signoret</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thimbles Between Us

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to K & C for the beta and F for the knowledge/tips, as I've never written anything like this before. The title is from a concept that I stole from Peter Pan, where Peter would give thimbles as gifts because he thought they were secret kisses. This was written for Summer Pornathon's Team Sin. Full list of warnings: Needle-play, suturing, mild bloody play, unprotected sex between consenting/monogamous adults, some D/s, references to play-parties and everything that comes with a monogamous couple inviting people into their relationship in a non-sexual but scene capacity, and explicit language.

Funnily enough, Merlin didn't gain this kink simply because his boyfriend was a fancy surgeon. It had been there for years, lurking underneath the surface, just waiting for someone to take the chance, to be trusted enough and to trust Merlin to know what he wanted. Luckily, Arthur brought more than just being a stable, trusted partner to their relationship.

He brought expertise.

And a really, really pretty mouth.

~~~ 

Merlin tugged off his shoes and walked into the bedroom. Arthur was already there, bare chested and looking slightly silly in just his briefs and socks that snaked up his calves. Merlin really loved those calves, strong and toned from standing on operating theatre floors all day long.

"Hey, Doc," Merlin said and when Arthur turned around, he was grinning. "What's up?"

"I brought you something," he said and yeah, Merlin could see the nervous, hopeful energy now, the way Arthur always got when he brought home a present or had good news. Merlin knew it probably came from his overwhelming urge to please—to do anything to make someone smile, like he had never been able to do for his father, while smiling was the only thing he ever did for his mother before she died. 

It took a long time for them to figure out that it was more than Arthur just throwing his money around to buy affection. Giving was a particular talent of Arthur's. 

Merlin crossed the bedroom, hands folding around Arthur's smooth biceps, so that he could kiss him. His mouth tasted like toothpaste, and whatever polite "hello, honey" kiss turned strong and deep, leaving Merlin a little breathless from its intensity. 

"I'm totally gonna love this present," Merlin murmured when they pulled apart. Arthur was already smiling, cheeks pink as he said, "Well, I do hope so."

"Do you want me to guess?" 

Arthur shook his head. "No, just sit down." 

Merlin sat and Arthur moved over to his work bag that Merlin respectfully didn't call a 'murse' but it certainly wasn't a gym bag. He tried to remember what Arthur's schedule was today but couldn't recall it exactly. He didn't think Arthur was on call tonight, a rare night that they could spend time together without waiting for Arthur to be called in to save lives. 

Yeah, so his boyfriend was kind of a superhero hiding behind a scalpel and some letters after his name.

No big deal. 

A really sexy, half naked superhero. 

Merlin licked his lips, watching Arthur rifle through his bag. "Is it shiny?" 

"Clepto."

"Can I eat it?" 

"I'd rather you didn't."

Merlin hummed, just now noticing how clean their room was. Clearly Arthur had tidied after Merlin had left because he distinctly remembered tripping half a dozen times on as many objects on his way out the door that morning. Beside him on the bed was a folded pair of clean scrubs. Before Merlin could look up and see if Arthur had finished digging in his bag, several vacuum sealed hypodermic needles tumbled onto the bright blue scrubs. And a thick spool of surgical thread.

Oh. 

_Oh._

Holy fuck. 

Merlin stared, mouth a little agape and his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. His chest felt so light and uncontrollably giddy that he was afraid he was developing a heart murmur there on the spot. 

"We don't have to," Arthur said but when Merlin looked up he was grinning excitedly and looking a bit smug at Merlin's reaction. 

"Arthur—"

He sat down next to Merlin, grasping his hands and tugging Merlin's attention away from the very shiny, very alluring needles. It took a few squeezes of his hands for Merlin to turn fully away from them and focus on Arthur. 

"I went through your checklist," Arthur said and Merlin blushed. He wasn't new to scening but he had never really been into anything extreme, mostly participating in play-parties and some extremely vanilla BDSM, compared to some of the people Merlin knew. Yet, something about the way Arthur said it made it sound... intimate and almost scandalous, like he read Merlin's diary instead of an outline of what Merlin wanted out of a needle-play scene, what his goals were, his limitations and some pretty detailed fantasising mixed in. 

When Merlin had first brought it up, after seeing some needle-play at one of Morgana's Kinky Potlucks, Arthur had sent him into the bedroom with a legal pad and told him to write everything down. Later, Arthur read it and put down his own feelings about each of Merlin's and they had a grown up discussion about it. They were adults but it didn't stop Merlin from blushing, feeling the hot rush of arousal in his dick and the paralysing excitement of how eager Arthur seemed as well.

This was really happening. 

This wasn't just threshold testing at a party or watching porn together or letting Arthur practise dressing his wounds and then frantically fucking in the mess of gauze because the mere idea had them shredding each other's clothes and spilling come all over themselves like teenagers just learning to jack each other off. 

"Do you still want to do this?" Arthur squeezed Merlin's hands but when he opened his mouth to reply, Arthur interrupted him. "Think about it before you answer, Merlin." 

Merlin immediately stuck out his tongue in protest but didn't answer right away. He thought back to the first time he had really seen needle-play at a party, watching Elyan and his sister Gwen work with needles. For them, it wasn't a sex thing. It was a trust thing that Gwen did for Elyan, just surface piercings with short needles. That wasn't what was going to happen between Arthur and him. 

For one, it was definitely a sex thing. 

Oh god, was it a sex thing—Merlin was simply intrigued by surface piercings and his real desire manifested later, after some interesting Google searching—and had more to do with the surgical thread the needles were laying on top of. 

"I want this," Merlin said, trying not to grin like a manic idiot but loving the way Arthur watched him so intently. "I want to do this with you." 

"Yeah?"

Merlin nodded, noticing the way Arthur's voice went a little breathy. "Yeah, can we do it soon? Or do you have to work?"

"I'm not on call tonight and I've got the morning off." 

Merlin grinned, looking away from Arthur and twisting back around to look at the needles. There were a lot of them and Merlin doubted they would use all of them but the thread—god. 

"It looks really sturdy," Merlin said and Arthur laughed. 

"It is. Obviously it could still be torn but it gets the job done most of the time." Merlin continued to stare at the perfect steel until Arthur got up, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. "Do you want to change any of the parameters?"

Merlin waited, thinking about it, before shaking his head. "No. Everything is fine." 

"Safeword?"

Merlin looked up. Arthur's fingers were hovering over the needles and this, well, this was it. Basically, Merlin saying his safeword would bring them into the scene. If he didn't say it or said a different word, they would move on—have some non-scene related orgasms to make sure there was no weirdness and that would be the end of it. They would talk about it later. 

"My safeword is Vodka," Merlin said, staring at Arthur until he nodded. They used a traffic-light system for the rest: yellow meant slow down but keep the scene and green was generally used to restart a scene because usually, the sound of Merlin's enthusiast consent was loud and clear. Arthur tended to forgo any toy that would restrict Merlin's mouth, because he was a vain bitch. 

Arthur scooped up the needles and the scrubs. Merlin watched, taking deep breaths and keeping his body still as Arthur walked to their dresser and put away his scrubs with very deliberate actions.

Merlin made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded strangled and kittenish to even his own ears. Arthur was being so careful and open—the sheer power of it seemed to rock Merlin back on his heels, how something so small as folding up Arthur's scrubs and putting them away could do so much: Arthur was using the action to show that yes, he read Merlin's list. It wasn't a medical kink. There wasn't any need for scrubs. 

Remarkably simple and remarkably sweet. 

"Go take a shower," Arthur said. "Wash everywhere and when you're done, stretch yourself with three fingers. Don't rush it and use plenty of lube, Merlin. I won't stretch you anymore because that's unsterile and my hands will be occupied. It's your responsibility to do this properly."

He paused and Merlin waited, not moving from the bed. 

"Shower please. I'll be waiting." 

Merlin didn't rush, scrubbing his skin until it turned pink, paying extra attention to the areas he had labelled on the little "Where Does It Hurt?" diagram Arthur had brought back from the hospital for Merlin to indicate where he would be interested in the placing of the needles. Just the thought made Merlin giggle, his cock hard against his belly, as he scrubbed himself clean. 

Twenty minutes later, he was blow-drying his hair with one hand (Arthur hated dampness on the linens because he was pretty much an anal retentive asshole sometimes) and using the other hand to stick his fingers in his arse. He knew he looked ridiculous, one leg up on the counter at a weird angle so that he could get better access to his hole, while still trying to stay in the path of the mirror so that he didn't end up blow-drying all his hair directly vertical. He kept almost losing his balance, having to hop a little bit on his foot and almost impale himself on his hand or smack himself in the face with the hair dryer. 

Sex with Arthur was always _so complicated_.

Merlin grinned in the mirror. 

Finally, with his hair dry (even behind his ears!) and arse thoroughly stretched and uncomfortably slick, Merlin exited the bathroom. The bedroom had changed and that too made his heart catch: the bed was stripped down to a fitted sheet and their largest Fascinator-Throw was spread out over the majority of the bed. (By far the best purchase of Merlin's "adult" life; super soft, practically indestructible and sex-fluid proof, with the added convenience of being machine washable—Merlin really wanted it in purple or leopard print but Arthur insisted on black because he _didn't want them to think they were gay_. Really. Because a) that was what was going to give them away and b) Arthur was the one who subscribed them to  Advocate and Out and insisted they be on the hospital's Pride float every year. A flamboyant sexytimes blanket was the least of their flagrant gaiety.) 

There was a tray on the night stand and Merlin stepped closer to the bed to see all the needles laid out, the thread there too, just waiting, and Arthur, beautiful and amazing, clad in nothing but grey briefs and latex gloves.

Yeah, the gloves were definitely part of the kink. 

"Wow," Merlin said. 

Arthur cleared his throat. 

"Lie down on the bed, face up and practise being still," Arthur said, the last couple of words stern but chastising, as if he doubted Merlin could do it. 

It made Merlin want to flail in defiance or better yet, prove him wrong. 

The blanket was as soft as always and when Merlin turned his face toward Arthur, he could see the way his cock filled the front of the briefs. Arthur was hard and they hadn't even begun yet. 

Merlin's cock twitched happily and he barely resisted grinning up at Arthur, with his super-serious face and that straining jaw he always got when he was Doming-out as much as he could—all perfect control and gorgeous strength—just an extension and exaggeration of who Arthur was through and through. 

"Now what?" Merlin asked. Arthur had turned his back and Merlin was trying to stay as still as possible. 

"Well Mer _lin_ ," Arthur drawled, impatient and slightly annoyed. "Now I'm going to sew you back together." 

Merlin inhaled sharply, as Arthur suddenly moved closer, practically on top of him, breathing into his face, saying, "Stop _moving_." 

"Right. Okay." 

"You asked me to do this," Arthur said, quiet and sure, tension gone like he knew Merlin was going to comply. "Let me do this for you." 

Merlin melted into the pillow, taking a deep breath that made his chest hurt, then settled into a stillness he couldn't believe. He focussed on Arthur's hands, where they rested on his chest. He let his mind roll around the possibility of getting nipple piercings, how amazing it would be to let Arthur plan it out—choose the size of bar and bells, choose the venue, choose the appointment time—he let the fantasy take him away but ground him too, in the way that he could imagine himself there in the chair, patiently waiting and wishing the hands readying the nipple were Arthur's. 

Arthur's broad, lifesaving hands, wrapped in the safest gloves on the market.

Safe for open heart surgery. 

Safe for Merlin's skin. 

"Close your eyes," Arthur ordered and there was a blink of panic in Merlin, where he wanted to fight it, wanted to stop, wanted to keep going but watch the preparation, but then Arthur's gloved hand rested against his cheek and Merlin exhaled, looking straight into Arthur's blue eyes.

He closed his eyes. 

There was nothing but rushing whiteness and Merlin settled down. Arthur moved around, his glove no longer able to rest constantly on Merlin's skin but that was fine, everything was going to be fine, because Arthur was there and he was going to take care of it. 

Merlin concentrated on the sound of Arthur puttering around, presumably threading the surgical thread. Before, when they had done trial runs at parties, Merlin had found out that lube stung too much for him and he had settled with a little bit more pain for prolonged and promised pleasure. So he knew that Arthur wasn't messing about with lube but was carefully stringing and making sure the thread was spooled. The fact that they had access to surgical thread was a hard line for Arthur, he wasn't going to do this with fishing line, like some of the suggestions in books and on websites read. He was appalled by the idea, knowing that something not made to go into the body was going into Merlin. That absolute line was what brought them here, the safety in knowing that Arthur was an expert in bodies and knew Merlin's better than anyone else in the world.

Someday, Merlin would be able to watch the way his meticulous fingers worked. But for now, it was enough to know that his face wasn't frowned in concentration. He wasn't biting his lip because Arthur wasn't like that. Dr Arthur Pendragon was stoic, with steady hands and a face so handsome, nurses swore he never broke a sweat during surgery—nothing but calm, confidence spread across his face. 

That was enough for Merlin to notice the temperature of the room had risen, keeping him comfortable without his clothes and the way the body was prone to shock. He focused on the feel of the micro-fibre of the blanket underneath him and the utter stillness of his body. 

"Merlin," Arthur said after an undistinguishable amount of time. 

"Yeah?" 

"We're going to start with something small," he said. "We'll work up to something a bit more... useful but we'll start with this." 

There was a beat, enough for an exhale, before Merlin felt the antiseptic hit his skin at the hip. It was the fleshy part of the hip, almost more of his waist, but it was a long line. Merlin shivered as it dried. 

"I want to hear you," was all Arthur said before his fingers were there, trusting Merlin to always find his voice when they were together, as he pushed in the first threaded needle. 

"Oh _fuck_ ," Merlin whined, teeth gnashing together. Pain flared hot, racing up his side and settling like a lapping wave in the pit of his belly. Arthur paused for a second, then continued and the fire spread, a unique sort of pain that rolled in until Merlin felt the needle go through the other side. 

Another pause but when Merlin spoke, it was "yes," and not anything else.

He could feel the thread now, Arthur tugging it through the hole he just made and pulling it through. There was a beat of time when Merlin tried to calm his panting, he desperately wanted to reach out and touch Arthur, but until he was done, there wasn't to be any touching. He felt the soft wipe, probably a cloth for the minimal amount of blood he would spill—the movement so gentle that he barely felt it through the overstimulation of pain and pleasure sweeping his body.

"Arthur," Merlin whispered, not even remotely ashamed that his voice was soft, round with awe and praise as he went boneless underneath Arthur's steady weight. 

The needle stuck him again. 

Up and up like a lattice, Arthur sewed confidently, taut but comfortable sutures. Each moment sliding the thread, bringing a new crashing wave of pain that would flare bright and unmistakable, spreading out in pleasure like a firework refusing to be consumed by the darkness or closing your eyes and still seeing light. Merlin focused on settling himself in the pin-prick of the moment. He melted into the belly of the pain, needle-point sharp, and lost himself there, where Arthur was piecing him together like a quilt. 

In his mind's eyes, Merlin yearned to see the flow of the thread and the arch of Arthur's arm as he brought it down. Merlin knew it would have been lyrical, a rhythm of puncture, slide, puncture, pull—great clean loops. 

"Open up," Arthur said when he was done. When Merlin opened his eyes, Arthur had leaned over him so that he could only see Arthur filling up his vision. 

"Hello, you." 

"Hello, you," Arthur repeated. He leaned down, kissing Merlin soundly, pushing his hips down into the bed as his fingers pressed dangerously close to the newly sewn sutures. Merlin keened into his mouth, blindly lapping at Arthur until he pulled away. 

Arthur stared, as if he was examining him—assessing him.

"I've made holes in you and I've filled you up with thread and pain and pleasure, Merlin. I've made holes and fucked them full," Arthur said, and Merlin was so happy to be done so that he could jerk when his cock did, body bowing up to Arthur's heat. 

Because this was why Arthur was there: more than just double penetration but dozens of tiny little holes that Arthur _made_ in Merlin and filled up, fucked with needle and thread and _dragged_ through him. The needle, an extension of his cock, that was simply a physical representation of what Arthur was doing to Merlin's heart. 

"Look at it," Arthur said, stroking the suture, letting it catch on the dryness of his gloves and pull until Merlin gasped, body jerking into his hand. His eyes frantically followed. The sutures were glorious, gunmetal thread criss-crossing his skin and laying claim like fresh tracks in snow. 

"You're so beautifully full of me," Arthur said, voice by Merlin's ear. There was a little bit of blood on the last suture as it was the newest and Merlin moaned as Arthur's finger smeared into it. "You were made for me to plug up all your holes and fuck them, leaving them open for me and only me to fill up until they burst. And now, now Merlin, I'll make you useful." 

Merlin nodded, hearing the question and smiling as Arthur rearranged them. His body felt heavy, his mind sluggish as he fought for headspace, his mind always more stubborn than his body. 

"Let me recast you," Arthur whispered. "Let me—"

They kissed. Arthur's mouth firm and patient, while Merlin couldn't control his tongue and felt over-eager. But the newness of his body was so alien that he could hardly contain himself. 

When they pulled apart, Merlin noticed that he had been propped up in the sitting position, a firm triangle support pillow behind him and Arthur at his side. 

"You'll watch me this time," Arthur said.

One of Merlin's forearms was turned over and antiseptic was applied. Merlin blinked. The first suture went on the side but the thread was left hanging. The second went on the opposite side and also dangled from Merlin's wrist. He breathed as best as he could and forced his body to relax into the firm hold of Arthur's hand. 

"See the way I fuck you," Arthur said calmly. "You take me so perfectly, hardly a drop of blood to spare because even that would rather touch my needle and feel me inside of you." 

Merlin cried out, his whole body wanting to surge with pleasure when Arthur took his forearm and laid it on top of the other and swabbed where they touched. Merlin watched, mouth trembling and riding a space that was threatening to topple him—which way, he wasn't sure. Arthur's strong fingers caught the thread on the side closest to Merlin and looped down, quickly catching the other arm, piercing the flesh and sinking, _sinking_ until it looped out. 

"Oh God, Arthur," Merlin moaned, too caught up and willing his body not to tremble. He took deep breathes and nearly cried when Arthur closed the surgical knot. His hand movements were confident and so fucking beautiful that Merlin felt swept up and completely useless in the face of such purity. 

The other side moved quicker, Merlin focusing on the feel instead of the sight. Arthur's face was just as Merlin pictured it: coolly confident and smiling slightly. Merlin could see his arousal, wetting the front of his briefs and he licked his lips, suddenly wishing that they could have anticipated how Merlin would have liked something of Arthur's in his mouth—how that would have made him feel safer—could have worked something out.

When the final surgical knot was tied, Merlin took a deep breath and said, "yellow." 

Arthur nodded, smiling and started to count back from twenty. 

At fifteen, Merlin closed his eyes and breathed in the smell of Arthur, which wasn't sterile but still clean and fresh. At ten, he reopened his eyes to see Arthur's smiling face, flushed with arousal and so unbelievably happy. 

When Arthur reached five, Merlin moaned and they were kissing at one. Merlin was still open and too overstimulated to be coordinated much more than a puppy but the way that Arthur slipped a little, allowed himself to pant in Merlin's mouth and moan around his tongue made Merlin shiver in delight, endorphins flooding his body. 

Merlin sucked on Arthur's tongue and when Arthur pulled back, he got up. Merlin watched as he shed his briefs and his cock bobbed out, hard and leaking at the head, spilling down the crown. 

"Green. Green. God, _green_. Can I put—"

Arthur laughed and Merlin blushed, staring down at his sewn together forearms. But when he looked back up, Arthur was already close enough to push his slick cockhead against Merlin's mouth.

"Just for a bit," Arthur soothed but Merlin was too busy gobbling it down his throat. His mouth was so _wet_ for it, tongue laving at the sides and curling to touch as much of Arthur's cock as possible. He breathed hard through his nose and let himself relax, giving himself time to forget the franticness, to forget his old body—with all its inadequacy—and find a space here, with what Arthur had created out of him. Merlin stretched until he could settle his forehead against Arthur's hard belly. 

He settled. 

If he looked down at the right angle, he could see one set of sutures on his arm. The sight had him moaning around Arthur's cock and slipping, falling over and tumbling, so ever light and Merlin never wanted to come back. 

Slowly, Merlin recognized he was being eased off Arthur's cock. He heard his own snuffling noises but couldn't stop them, couldn't feel shame when Arthur said, "always so greedy for me, so ready to be stuffed full up and owned."

Merlin just breathed and existed. 

Arthur settled back against the pillows and Merlin found himself being lifted up by his elbows, the sutures of his forearms stretching and pulling until he cried out, cock gushing against his belly in a pathetic attempt at escape. Merlin moaned out in pleasure, jerking pleasantly in Arthur's arms until he was settled on his lap. 

His arms were up and over Arthur's head. It positioned him so very close to him, legs coltish and in the way as Arthur moved them. Each time Merlin would thrash or moan, body rolling with pleasure and pain that made him sore higher, the sutures would pull a little and it would send him tumbling again, words spilling out of his mouth in a never ending spool of praise. 

"Arthur, Arthur," Merlin muttered, rubbing against him and feeling the blunt head of his cock slide against Merlin's balls and up, nesting and nudging into his hole. 

"Merlin," Arthur said, leaning to leave open mouthed but controlled kisses against Merlin's shoulders. "Merlin, listen and repeat after me." 

Merlin moaned, his eyelids so very heavy and his body so very light. The war of feelings made him feel tired and the constant resurgence of pleasure made him whine. Arthur's fingers were trailing over his body and moving him as he desired.

"I made these holes," Arthur said firmly, pressing kisses to his face. 

"You made these holes," he said, knowing the words by heart. Merlin choked on a noise, feeling overwhelmed and flying so high. He tried to ground himself, listening to the careful and solid cadence of Arthur's voice. 

"I filled you up."

"You, oh god Arthur, yes, you filled me up," Merlin dutifully repeated. 

"You're mine."

"I'm yours."

"I make you whole." 

"You do, you do, _Arthur_ ," Merlin whined, head bumping against Arthur's shoulder as he clenched and unclenched his arse, trying to get the head of Arthur's dick to move inside of him.

"Merlin, open your eyes."

He took a deep breath and did, eyes fluttering desperately as he tried to focus. He was dizzy with pleasure, sitting astride Arthur's lap, who was staring back at him with wide, blue eyes. He looked as if Merlin was the centre of everything—as if Merlin hung the moon. 

"Arthur—"

"I'm going to fuck you now," Arthur said, voice a little breathless but his hands firmly stroking the sutures on Merlin's hip. Merlin's hands flexed needlessly, the sutures binding his forearms together were loose but still tugged as he squirmed.

"Arthur, please." 

"Hush, I sewed you together, didn't I? Knitted you back up and now you're all put back together—I've made you whole and I'm going to fuck you now. Fill you up," Arthur whispered, lips and teeth nipping at Merlin's and trailing over his face. 

Merlin tried to breath. 

"Open up for me," and then Arthur was there, pushing at his entrance. It felt like a lifetime ago that Merlin was prepping himself, trying not to come as he watched Arthur and his beautifully talented hands arrange the needles. 

"Merlin," Arthur panted and then he felt it, the way Arthur's gloves clung to the sutures as his fingers dug in, pulling at his flesh, just as his cock was breaching and laying claim to the last opening Merlin had left. 

There wasn't a single part of him not filled with Arthur.

"Oh, oh," Merlin's body was trembling, his cock rubbing against Arthur's strained abs. Arthur's cock felt massive, even though his body opened gladly, letting him sink on Arthur's cock without much effort—just the heft of his body weighing him down and seating him on the thick width of Arthur's dick. 

Merlin didn't feel heavy though. He felt lighter than air. He felt as if nothing in the world could ever be better than this—Arthur, so completely and utterly filling him to the brim in every possible way. An utter slackness sunk into him, running through his tendons and cutting them until he was nothing but this, right here—nothing but Arthur's. 

"You're doing so well, Merlin," Arthur said, his voice shaking but low and fuck, Merlin could no longer keep his eyes open. They slid shut and his head rocked back, the loose net of his forearm sutures pulling as they caught on the back of Arthur's neck. 

Merlin moaned. "Arthur, I'm not going to—"

"Shh, you're doing fine, I'm almost done." 

Merlin didn't know how long he sat there: floating weightless and tethered by the strength of Arthur's cock thrusting into him; listening to his own breathless whimpers and pleading that seemed so far removed; feeling the stretch of his skin around the holes Arthur made and then filled; and the rhythm of Arthur's fingers as they squeezed his hips, his gloved fingers digging in there too, to make sure every nook and cranny was conquered.

"There you are," Arthur panted and Merlin moaned, stretching his back and riding the full length of Arthur's thrust. "I'm going to come, Merlin—fill you up. Wait, wait until I'm done." 

It was a barely audibly request but Merlin registered it dimly. He loved Arthur like this, quietly consumed with pleasure, giving everything to Merlin and holding nothing back—pounding into him, stretching him in so many ways and demanding that Merlin take it all because Arthur was fixing him—making him good enough for both of them.

Merlin was bouncing now, his head flopping like a ragdoll, to the uneven and frantic rhythm of Arthur's hips. He was going to come soon, sloppy and raw inside of Merlin, making him messy but full up—hell, probably bursting and leaking with come. 

"Merlin," Arthur said, giving one last gasp and a grunt before he came. Merlin moaned, head falling to Arthur's shoulder, pushing against his clavicle as Arthur rode out his pleasure. Merlin breathed deep, trying to open up his chest but he could feel the slippery way Arthur was working into him—the hitching way his hips were still shoving into him and how Merlin was wet, making a mess of Arthur's spent dick and the insides of his thighs—making a mess of the places they were pressed together. 

Making a mess because he was too full, brimming over and spilling around Arthur in gratitude. 

"Please," Merlin moaned, forehead sweaty and mind fuzzy with such bone deep satisfaction, he didn't know if he needed to come or if he could just stay there forever, bundled in Arthur's arms with Arthur's slowly softening cock inside of him. "Oh, Arthur, please."

It was only when Arthur moved a soothing hand up his back, tracing the bumps of his spine, while his other hand played the sutures on his hip like a violin, that Merlin realized that he was chanting Arthur's name. 

"I'd do it, you know," Arthur said. He was pressing against the side of Merlin's head, speaking low and sincere, earnest in a way that was only revealed when everything else had been peeled away—all the arrogance and privilege stripped down to just the way Arthur wanted nothing but to promise Merlin the world. 

Merlin quaked. 

"Someday, I'm going to take you apart like this. I'm going to take you apart in my arms and fill you up in all the ways you deserve and then I'm going to sew us together. I don't care what I have to pay to find someone to sew us together, babe, but I'll do it because you were made for me." 

It was the most beautiful thing anyone had ever said to him. 

"Sew us together until you can't tell that we were ever apart," Arthur said. "Knit us together so that I'll become you and we'll never be separate." 

Merlin sat, arse leaking, sutures pulling as he sobbed into the slick skin of Arthur's neck. He felt so grounded to Arthur, he felt no pain just hot white, soft pleasure—the only burn was the searing heat of his tears on his cheeks and the way they made his cracked lips burn from the salt. 

"You can come now." 

It was soft and encouraging, almost an afterthought, but Merlin's body responded because they weren't two people anymore. They were just one perfectly formed creation. They were so damn perfect.

Merlin struggled to stay conscious, his orgasm just a distant and rolling pleasure through him. He wanted to stay awake because aftercare was so important to Arthur and the safe, warm feeling that was thudding through Merlin—he wanted to make sure that Arthur understood. But no matter what he wanted, he weaved in and out of consciousness as Arthur applied regional anaesthetic to the sutures, cut and pulled them out, before he thoroughly cleaned the neat punctures.

Merlin could feel the breadth of his own smile the entire time and was glad that every time he reached out to touch Arthur's face, he was smiling too. 

Bandages came next, two over his forearms and one for his hip. Some days, he dreamed of being completely covered by Arthur's work and of the tender way Arthur would dress him every morning and every night. 

Finally, Arthur's warmth stopped moving away and settled to the other side of the bed. Long ago, they realised that Merlin didn't like to be touched after this. That the only touch would be whatever he initiated as he slipped out of one headspace and into another, the transition slow and the limbo tricky to navigate. 

But he could feel the warmth of Arthur's body and that soothed him.

"Arthur?" 

"Yes, Merlin," Arthur said, voice rough but fond. 

"Thank you."

He reached across the small space between them, putting his fingers to the pulled stretch of Arthur's smiling mouth. He traced the teeth there. 

"Thank you so damn much," he repeated. 

"You're welcome, Merlin," Arthur said, tender now and Merlin felt like he might cry again. "We'll talk about the rest in the morning, okay? I've taken the day off work." 

Merlin dropped one of his hands to Arthur's and led it over to the bandage on his hip. 

"I like the way it feels," he said, blinking his eyes open, not noticing they’d ever closed. "Your fingers through the bandages." 

"I like it too." 

"Yeah?"

Arthur closed his eyes and Merlin watched him relax, his fingers gripping hard on Merlin's hip, squeezing twice before going slightly limp. 

"I love it, Merlin," Arthur said against Merlin's fingers. "I honestly do."


End file.
